


What's Always Been

by RoboticRainboots



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Does this count as a sick fic? Probs not, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irony, Post-Promised Day, hospital fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:12:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoboticRainboots/pseuds/RoboticRainboots
Summary: All he ever wanted was to see his mother's smile again, but now that the events of the Promised Day have come to pass, Edward realizes his mother's smile was never truly gone like he believed it to be.





	What's Always Been

There was commotion in the hallway outside the door. Lots of it at that. There had been constant yelling from nurses and the screeching of gurney wheels on the white tiled floor and the pitter patter of running footsteps. The ruckus had been nonstop since they had arrived at the hospital right before the sun began to set. 

Edward had been in this same hospital enough times to know this wasn’t typically the case. Usually, he would lie in the white hospital bed in the itchy, hospital-issued clothing listening to _perfect silence_ from outside his door. 

But today that was not the case. 

In fact, the whole pattern of Ed eating hospital food, Ed grumbling about wanting to go, Ed arguing that whatever life-threatening injury he might have sustained only looked worse than it actually was had been reversed. For the first time, he wasn’t the patient in the hospital gown, Al was. 

Ed watched his brother. Alphonse was looking out the window, mesmerized by the stars in the night sky and the pillars of smoke that climb up from the city grounds to the heavens. For a moment Ed wondered how Al could even see anything with the night sky being so dark and the harsh lights of the hospital room shining so brightly that the glare turned the glass window pane into a mirror, but he reasoned that perhaps it was his own reflection in the mirror that Al is so enraptured by. That would probably have made more sense than the sight of the night sky. Al never said anything, but Ed knows Al’s seen enough pitch-black skies to last him a lifetime. 

Through the mirror that is their window, Ed takes in the features of his little brother’s face. The gentle slope of his nose, his high cheekbones, his golden eyes like two dancing suns, the same as Ed’s. His meek, close-lipped smile. 

Ed forgets that for as long as he hasn’t seen his own little brother’s appearance, Al hasn’t seen it _himself._ He had no clue how his own face had matured, how long his flaxen hair had grown. He was his own endless enigma. 

So perhaps Al wasn’t hypnotized by the view outside, but rather re-memorizing all the features of his own face. 

After the pandemonium had died down some once Ed had finally defeated Father and everyone had come to see Al for themselves, Ed had sat there with his little brother nestled against his side trying to memorize every line, every detail of Alphonse’s face. It was saddening to realize that although it had been his body they had been fighting for this entire time, there were so many little things that Ed had forgotten. So many things that he’d never even thought about as a child that he would have to memorize again. 

He’d forgotten the way Al’s eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled, almost as if he was squinting in the sunlight. The way his little sneezes sounded. Who knew you could miss the sound of someone sneezing. 

Al hadn’t said anything as his brother looked on. He’d let Ed stare, breathe in every curve and every line. 

“How do I look?” Al had asked, his voice still cracked and broken from all those years of disuse once he’s grown tired of Ed’s examination. 

“You look great, Al.” Ed had said in a way that made the words sound like they were simply exhaled rather than spoken. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Brother.” 

“No, Al, I’m serious.” And he was. “You look great. Sure you’re a little skinny and in need of a haircut, but once you get some meat on your bones you’ll be looking like you walked straight out of one of those fancy pictures they show at the cinema. Hold on, I’ll go find you a mirror so you can see for yourself—” 

“It’s okay, Ed, you don’t have to go find me a mirror. I’m fine not knowing. For now, let’s just stay here for a little longer.” 

And so they stayed. Ed kept his arm around Al, who was still bundled up in the thick, black coat Mustang had given him once he stepped out of the Gate, but even in such a heavy garment he was still cold. They sat there and talked about anything and everything. Al chattered about how weirdly different it was talking with an actual mouth to maneuver instead of the words just magically pouring out of him. They talked about the things they would do once they got back to Resembool and how Winry would react. Ed asked Al what was the first thing he wanted to do now that he had his body back; a question that Al had so many ideas for (which included getting a taste of Winry’s apple pie) that Ed had done nothing but sit there for thirty minutes just listening to his brother talk (not that he minded, of course). 

They stayed until Major Armstrong came and found them, a couple of bandages wrapped around his own injuries that he had sustained during the battle. They hadn’t wanted to go, to leave the warmest moment in six years behind, but the Major reminded them that the sun would set soon and it was probably for the best that they both were checked out at Central City Hospital as their respective conditions could not be ignored. 

He had personally escorted them to the hospital himself. He had waited patiently for them as he led, giving them their personal space instead of his typical bombardment of hugs and emotional declarations of admiration. He even offered to carry Alphonse the rest of the way when even walking leaned against Ed had proved too much for him. Ed had denied the offer, opting to carry his little brother himself despite both Al and Armstrong’s protest against it. 

“If your right arm is as weak as my entire body feels and your left was just impaled, then you’re in no means to carry me, Brother,” Al had insisted, but was too weak to do anything but fall slack into his brother’s arms. 

“I can carry you just fine, Al. You weigh less than a sack of potatoes. You’re only like fifty pounds,” Ed retorted, sadly realizing that last statement probably wasn’t too far from the truth. 

Ed didn’t even realize he’s gotten lost in the details of the past few hours until he jumped at the feeling of something cold on his hand. 

“Sorry,” Al laughed, his hand in the place where Ed’s used to be. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You didn’t scare me.” 

_“Sure, I didn’t,”_ Al retorted with a coy smile, one Ed had forgotten his little brother used to make. 

“What do you expect? Your hand is freezing,” but he couldn’t keep the prideful act up as a smile broke through his voice. 

Al hummed in acknowledgement. 

“Brother,” Al started, his voice growing quiet, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for not being able to get your leg back and that—” 

“Al, don’t apologize for that. I’m fine with the leg. Really, I am. Plus Winry will be happy I can still play the role of her automail guinea pig!” 

“No, but Ed—” 

“Another time,” Ed interfered. “For now let’s just be happy.” 

Al looked away, back to the foot of the bed, before coming back to Ed’s eyes and nodding. “Okay, we can do that,” and they both smiled. 

“You know,” Ed started, “it’s getting pretty late out there, you should probably get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Al agreed, but the comment was offhanded, more like an acknowledgment that Ed had said anything rather than an actual agreement to the statement. He kept his gilded eyes glued to the foot of the bed, one hand aggravatingly messing with the other, a habit he had picked up from his time in the armor by always fidgeting with the two metal pieces on the backs of his gauntlets. 

Ed didn’t let the awkward silence settle between them though. 

In his small, right palm he took Al’s pale hand. His little brother looked at him, his eyes still sparkling with unease. 

“I thought you wanted to sleep. After the third laboratory you had said—” 

“I do,” Al said, cutting him off mid-sentence as though he couldn’t bear being reminded of the particular memory. “It’s just—I’m just—” he stammered, trying to find the words that failed him. 

“I’m just—” 

Pause. 

“Scared.” 

The last word was barely a whisper, a half-choked out thing filled with guilt. It broke Ed’s heart to hear it. 

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Ed reassured, giving Al’s hand a light squeeze. 

“I know,” Al said, eyes still slightly glassy, “but I don’t want to be scared. This is what I always wanted, this is what we worked so hard to get. I shouldn’t be afraid, too many people helped me get here for me to be nervous now. It isn’t right that’s I’m scared.” 

The words sunk into Ed’s gut like an anchor in the sea, knocking his breath out of him. All this, Al had been through all this and he was still afraid. It made him angry, angry at Truth for robbing his brother of what should have never been taken. 

But more than that, Ed was angry at himself. He was the one who had let this happen. He was the one who had let his brother go on in the dark by himself for so long that he was scared to finally sleep. 

“You know I would never let anything happen to you.” 

“I know that, silly. I’ve always known that.” 

“Good,” Ed said, nodding before repeating the affirmation. “Good.” 

For a moment it seemed the conversation had ended itself then and there before a conclusion had been reached. However, Al spoke up again, eyes turned back to the foot of his bed with a look of being somewhere very far away from here. 

“I just don’t want to be alone.” 

Oh. 

Ed should have realized that was it. Never once in all six years had Al ever complained about being alone during the endless nights when the sun seemed just as distant as any other star. In fact, the only time he had so much as mentioned it had been that single conversation that took place at the foot of the hotel staircase after they found out Lieutenant Colonel Hughes was dead. 

Al’s armor had shaken as he brought his heavy, leather gauntlets up to cradle his head before declaring that he couldn’t take spending all the sleepless nights so alone and so afraid anymore. 

No, this was not about Al’s anxious fears of what sleep would bring, this was a matter of the fear that struck with the idea of being left alone during the nights once more. 

“I’ll stay here with you, Al. I’ll sit here right beside you all night every night for as long as you need me,” Ed offered. He would have stayed here regardless, not leaving his little brother for a moment in case all of this might be some too-good-to-be-true fever dream. He hoped vocalizing his intentions would help sooth Alphonse of his panic. 

“Brother, you don’t need to. You need to rest yourself, don’t act like I can’t see the way your injured arm hurts you. Really, it’s okay. You can’t stay in that chair all night.” 

“Al, you’re not going to be able to change my mind so it’s not worth fighting.” 

“But Brother—” 

“No listen to _me_ ,” Ed interrupted, squeezing Al’s hand again and staring into his big, gold eyes. “I’m staying here with you, I’m not going to leave you here by yourself. You spent all those nights watching over me, so I’m going to do the same in return for you.” 

There had been so many nights during that first year that Ed had awoken during the middle of the night, screaming and clawing at his eyes with a desperate fear. Nightmare upon nightmare had endlessly plagued his mind. 

But through it all Al had been there, sitting beside him and brushing his messy bangs out of his eyes as gently as he could with clumsy, too big hands. Al had kept him sane, he had protected him when Ed was terrified from the nightmarish truth that lingered in his dreams. Al sat there, an ever-patient sleepless mantle, that sung their mother’s soft lullaby with a metallic echo when nothing else would calm his older brother. 

So Edward would do the same for his little brother. He would protect Al from the wondering loneliness. 

“Alphonse, I’m stay here with you. I’m going to sit here and watch over you. It’s what you did every single night for me without a complaint. Let me take care of _you._ ” 

Alphonse’s face crumpled, the rest of his body going perfectly still and his tiny hand limp in Ed’s grasp. His eyes crinkled at the sides and welled up with tears. For a moment they hung there on the bottom of his lids as if he was trying to hold them back, but they spilled over anyway, running down his cheeks and getting caught on the oxygen tube under his nose. 

In a desperate flurry, Ed tried to remedy the mistake he didn’t realize he’d made. “Oh Al, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. What’s wrong, what did I do?” 

But at his brother’s look of utter panic, Al’s face split into a huge grin despite the tears that continued to flood. 

“You didn’t make me sad, silly. I’m just— thank you,” Al said with a wet laugh. 

“But you’re crying—” 

“I know,” and he tried his best to wipe away the tears with his small, shaky hands. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy.” 

Ed sighed, falling back into his chair after jumping up in his panic about his brother’s tears. 

“Good,” he put a palm to his forehead, leaning back in his chair even farther. “Fuck, you really had me scared there for a second. What am I going to do now with both you _and_ Winry crying all the time without me ever knowing if it’s for a good reason or a bad one?” 

He dragged the hand down his face and looked back at Al. “I’m glad you’re happy. It makes me happy too.” 

Somehow, Al’s smile managed to grow even wider. 

It was a sight that Ed wanted to tattoo to the inside of his mind so he would never forget it like he once already had. Despite everything that had happened, despite every change that had happened to Al’s body in the six years it was lost to the Gate, his smile had stayed exactly the same. How could he ever forget the way Al’s smile was slightly crooked, the right side reaching higher than the left, or the little dimples that appeared on his cheeks? There were so many things that had been lost to the Gate. Not just physical, bodily things, but time and memories that would never come to pass. At least they had their entire lives ahead of them to simply _live._

“But Brother, if you really are going to stay here with me then you can’t just the night in that chair. You’ll be so uncomfortable in the morning.” 

Ed knew his little brother was right about that, but there wasn’t another hospital bed in the room so the red, plastic chair would just have to do. 

“It’s okay, Al. I can—” 

“Come here, Brother.” 

“What?” Ed asked, confused at what his little brother meant. 

It became evidently clear to Ed what he meant when he saw Al try to scoot to the far side of the bed. It looked like a lot of effort for Al, trying to push himself up and maneuver so there was space for Ed beside him. 

“Al you don’t have to. The chair’s fine. Really.” 

“No it’s okay. We can share the bed like we used to when we were little.” 

Times like that had seemed like so long ago. It was a lifetime behind them, centuries away in the past. 

Ed feared he would squish Al in the bed or make him uncomfortable lying beside him, but the smile he gave Ed was slightly sad with a desperate edge. A smile Ed couldn’t deny. 

Ed got up and walked across the room, flicking out the bright hospital lights and plunging the room into darkness. He probably should have been smarter when he did it, realizing that if he was going to climb into the bed with Al, he was going to have to find his way through the many IVs and tubes attached to Al without pulling them out. Luckily, the street lights from outside the giant window on the wall beside the bed shone just bright enough for Ed to see all the details he needed to. With overly cautious movements, Ed slipped between the tubes and wires until he was under the blanket with his little brother nestled up against him. 

“Much better than the chair, huh?” Al prompted with that mischievous smile. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” 

Al tried to reach at his face again, attempting to wipe the remaining tears off his face, but his weak arms moved like molasses so Ed wiped the tears away for him. 

They lied there like that for a while, just breathing and smiling. There was warmth in the full presence of the other. 

There were so many things they needed to talk about, so many things left to say. Al had tried to bring up Ed’s lost alchemy or his automail leg more than once since he’d gotten his body back, but Ed had shushed him every time wanting to soak up the happy moment like the summer sun. They had been through so much. So much pain, so much suffering. There were things they both needed to say, things they hadn’t been able to say before, but for now they let it go. They had their entire lives ahead of them for that. Right now all they needed were each other. 

“You want to see something cool?” Al asked, looking up at Ed. 

“Sure.” 

“Well it’s more something you have to feel than see, but— here, give me your hand and I’ll show you.” 

Ed stretched out his left hand to Al, trying not to wince as he saw the hand Al used to grasp his was only half the size. With shaky fingers, Al stretched Ed’s hand out flat and placed it on the middle of his chest. 

Ed wondered what was so special about the coarse material of the hospital gown Al was wearing when he felt it. 

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. 

A heartbeat. 

It pulsed under his fingers like the pull of the tides. 

“Do you feel it?” Al whispered. 

“Yeah,” Ed answered, hardly able to choke out the word. “I do.” And Al smiled. He smiled at his newfound heartbeat and the warm pressure of Ed’s hand on his chest. 

It was a marvelous smile. The biggest and brightest Ed had ever seen. It was like a match being lit in the darkness of a dream. So bright and beautiful that it drew every eye in a mile radius to it. A smile that radiated its own kind of light, the kind not of stars and streetlamps, but the bright light from within. 

And it was at the sight of that particular smile, the one of utter joy, that reality hit Ed like a brick to the head. An amalgamation of all his years of life coming together in his mind at the sight of it. 

His mother. Al’s smile. The transmutation. All of it rushing through Ed’s head at once, drawing lines and connections he had never seen before. 

His shoulder shook at the recognition, but he couldn’t give it his full attention with Al still awake beside him. He would just have to wait until his little brother fell asleep before Ed could trace the gridwork of his past and process what he’d just come to see. 

They laid there and talked for a bit longer, whispering about silly things and wondering where everyone who had participated in the battle was now. The Lieutenant, the Colonel, Teacher, and Sig. The Armstrongs. Scar. Mei, Lan Fan, and Ling. Their chatter didn’t last long, however. It was clear when Al’s eyelids drooped and he gave a small yawn that he would be fast asleep soon. 

Slowly, with his arms still wrapped around his brother, Ed turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. 

Fuck. 

Six years. For six years he hadn't seen that smile. It had always felt like longer. All those years they had spent searching for the Philosopher's Stone had felt like more. But just now, looking for at Al's smile as he let Ed feel his heartbeat, it felt like he hadn't seen it in _lifetimes._

Perhaps it was a smile he had always seen, but never truly known. Because seeing it just now, Ed didn't just see it as a smile on his brother’s face, he saw it for so much more. He saw it for what it really was. 

All his life he had been so damn _blind._

It’s knowing something, but never fully realizing. It’s like knowing Al’s body was probably deteriorating while at the gate, but never fully realizing or processing the truth of it until Ed had punched through the gate, screaming to Al that he would come back for him. 

He covered his mouth with his left hand, stifling a sob so he wouldn’t wake Al who had just fallen asleep for the first time in six years. Ed choked on his fist, not being able to hold back the tears. 

Ed wondered if his face crumpled the way Al’s did when he’d cried just under an hour ago. Do his features mirror his little brothers? 

He knows in a way they do. They’re undeniably related. The same golden eyes, golden hair; they’ve been mistaken as twins more times than Ed could count. But there’s a difference between his features and Al’s: all Al’s features took after Trisha whereas Ed looked more like Hohenheim (this was not a thought he had ever thought before, always scowling at the mention of his father, but his help today cut him just enough slack for Ed to have the split-second thought without jumping up in rage). 

Ed didn’t allow himself to think of his mother very often. It was rare when he did. Only in the small minutes as the sun rose when he had stayed up the entire night, tossing and turning in his bed plagued with guilt like an illness, did he allow his mind to wander back to her. To all the things he wished he could have done differently, to a mother who loved him no matter what, to the transmutation that ripped him and Al apart. 

She was always so forgiving, so full of love. She had still loved Hohenheim even when he walked away and left the three of them behind; she never gave up faith in him even as she laid sick and dying. 

Ed had once wondered if she would forgive him too, but it had been a thought so painful that Ed had covered his ears and curled up into a tighter ball, trying to burn the thought from his mind. 

But now, with the war finally won and his baby brother tucked against him, alive and breathing, sleeping against his side, Ed thought about his mother for the first time in a long time. 

When he was five and she had died Ed had broken. He had sobbed at the funeral. Fat, wet tears like rapid down his face. Al stood beside him, clinging to his sleeve through the entire funeral like a lost child. When the burial was done, the Resembool townsfolk who had come to pay their respects had left. Then Granny, then Winry. Everyone gone until it was only Ed and Al left alone in front of a new, smooth headstone. 

It was then that Ed had gotten the idea for human transmutation. Filled with all this sorrow, Ed knew he would never be okay. Heartbreak wasn’t something one could be filled up with and sustained by. It was an ebbing emptiness, one that made him want to curl up and never move again. So Ed had thought about all the alchemy tomes that lined the shelves in their father’s study and replaced his sadness with desperate desire. He could work with a hungering fervor to bring her back better than he could with a melancholy misery. 

So from then on, Ed thought about nothing but his sole ambition. Studying alchemy, learning from Teacher, staying on Yock Island trying to survive with nothing; it was his strong aspiration that had kept him afloat. 

All Ed wanted was to see his mother’s smile again. 

But beside Ed throughout it all had been Al. He had studied the same alchemic text, learned from Teacher, survived Yock Island alongside Ed. He was always there, so present that Ed didn’t even have to think about it. 

Perhaps if Ed hadn’t been so focused on getting her smile back then he would have been able to open his and see what was around him. 

Perhaps he would have been able to see that Trisha’s smile never truly left. 

For beside Ed, through thick and thin, was Al. Al who had his mother’s same smile. 

His mother’s smile was always there next to him, Ed just never realized. 

Ed heaved again at the cognizance. He was sixteen now, eleven years had passed since his mother’s death and all this time he had never known what had always been until it had been lost and found once more. All this time and he had never realized he already had what he so feverishly wanted. 

It was ironic that in the transmutation to return his mother’s smile to the world he had lost all traces of it altogether when Al lost his body. 

God, he was such a fool. 

The sight of Al smiling at the touch of Ed’s hand against his heart replayed over and over and over again in his mind as Ed laid there and cried. All this time and he hadn’t even realized. 

In his desperate attempts to get back what he had never really lost, Ed lost what he never knew he already had. 

Ed wiped at his face repeatedly with his hand, irritating the skin. This would take some time to fully settle in him without hurting to think about. There was so much to process now, so many losses to grieve that Ed had never had the time to grieve for before. 

He would be okay. They would be okay. 

But for now Ed pulled Alphonse closer to him, wrapping his free hand around Al’s back and breathing it all in. Here Al was again, whole and happy and sleeping. There was nothing more Ed could have asked for, they had finally gotten everything they had dedicated their lives to getting back. They were finally whole. 

A smile spread against Ed’s lips as he thought about that, and for the first time in six years he fell asleep happy and warm and at peace with the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I wrote this one in a single night at 2 a.m. (what am I doing with my life) and then edited it on like no sleep so I apologize in advance for mistakes.
> 
> Drop a comment and I will name my firstborn after you I swear
> 
> If you ever wanna scream about fma or the elric brothers or literally anything just hmu at tumblr or instagram @ roboticrainboots


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